


Dance Alone

by Lothiriel84



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He talks to Molly like he used to talk to John – and before John, to the skull that is resting on the mantelpiece of 221B Baker Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Future fic. Contains some spoilers for 3x03.

He talks to Molly like he used to talk to John – and before John, to the skull that is resting on the mantelpiece of 221B Baker Street.

The fact that they’re lying in her bed without any clothes on is of little consequence to him, even if he has to admit that his ability to focus is temporarily hindered by the soft kisses she’s trailing down his neck. He’s recently discovered that, on balance, his razor-sharp mind seems to benefit from their secret encounters; that’s why he’s here, though he has a feeling that John wouldn’t approve in the slightest.

It’s not like he’s using her, he promptly reassures himself. He’s made his intentions perfectly clear right from the start; she’s a grown up woman, and therefore capable of making her own decisions.

Her company is far more pleasant than that of the skull anyway.

 

* * *

 

It’s Molly who eventually finds the courage to end their not-quite relationship.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore,” that’s all she says through the closed door.

He only shrugs and walks away. This has never been about sentiment; it was just another of his experiments, nothing more.

Three days later John traces him to the same drug den where he’s been on a previous occasion. He doesn’t even try to pretend it’s for a case this time around.

 

* * *

 

He steels himself for a slap that never comes, then steals a quick glance in her direction.

Molly looks so sad he almost opens his mouth to apologize; she doesn’t let him though, she simply turns her back to him and strides out of the lab.

His experiment has failed quite badly, that much is painfully obvious. For a man that can count his friends on the fingers of one hand, losing one is a collateral damage that can’t really be afforded.

 

* * *

 

“Please, tell me that you’ve not been using Molly like you did with Janine,” an exasperated John demands when they’re back to the flat they used to share.

“Of course I didn’t,” he spits out. “It’s hardly ‘using’ when the other party is more than willing to oblige.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

His friend seems dangerously near to punching him in the face, and he’s almost looking forward to it. “I’m not a good man, John. You’ve always known that.”

John stares at him for a good minute before speaking again. “You’re in love with her,” he says in wonder, like it’s one more deduction he clearly wasn’t expecting.

“Certainly not. Where did you get these incredible ideas?”

“All right, have it your own way,” his friend concedes, albeit reluctantly.

He exhales a breath of relief, shutting his eyes at last.

 

* * *

 

“Caring is not an advantage,” he tells the skull, and he gets no answer.

“Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side,” he adds as a sort of afterthought, memories of the Woman swirling about his mind.

This is not about the Woman though, and he pushes the image back to the recesses of his mind palace. Molly is a friend – was, actually, since she refuses to talk to him now; he’s not quite sure how this fits his previous knowledge on the subject matter, but his instincts tell him it does make a difference somehow.

“I don’t do sentiments,” he says at last, weariness seeping into his voice. “They’re not really my area, are they?”

“For a smart man, you really are stupid.”

He snaps his eyes open in surprise. Is the skull contradicting him now?

No, not the skull – Molly did, he can see her familiar figure leaning against the mantelpiece.

“Are you really here?” he blurts out before he can check his tongue. He has a tendency to mistake what’s going on in his mind palace for reality sometimes.

“John came to me, said he couldn’t bear to see you pining like this.”

“I’m not pining,” he counters quickly, but she only raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re talking to a skull.”

“I did it all the time before I met John.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

He counts slowly to three and calls after her. “Stay, will you?”

Molly gives him a half smile, then drops her bag on John’s old chair.


End file.
